Stay: Stay Duet, #1

By jennifer sucevic

 

From USA Today bestselling author Jennifer Sucevic comes the first novel in the Stay duet.

Last year, I failed out of school in spectacular fashion.  Instead of focusing on my classes and hockey, I cracked under the pressure and lost everything important to me.  Nine months later, I'm starting over at a new university.  A place where no one knows how I crashed and burned.  It's a fresh start where I can get my life back on track and prove to my family that I'm not a screw up.

This year, I'm focused on academics.  Sure…I'll humor my roommate, Brooklyn, by going to a party or two, but I'm not about to make the same mistakes twice.

Unfortunately, someone should have mentioned that to a certain hockey playing hottie who refuses to take a hint and leave me alone.  As much as I hate to admit it, if I had a type, Cole Mathews would fit it to a T with his dark shaggy hair, golden-brown eyes, and muscular arms.

Did I mention his chiseled pecs?

Yeah, totally dreamy.

Er…if I were the dreamy sort, that is.

To make matters worse, he's ridiculously easy going.

Not to mention, nice.

We're talking total kryptonite to the female species.

Which makes him much too dangerous for the likes of me.  And this year, I'm smart enough to realize it.  Resisting all that charm might seem futile, but there isn't much choice in the matter.

I won't let a hot hockey player derail my future.

Now, I just need to convince him of that.

• Language: English
• Publisher: jennifer sucevic
• Release date: Jul 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215919651

jennifer sucevic

Jennifer lives in Michigan with her four kids and husband.

Book preview

Chapter One

Cassidy

––––––––

With a shake of my head, I watch as my roommate, Brooklyn, busts out all her best moves on the makeshift dance floor. She’s the tall blonde dancing with her hands twisting in the air, almost as if she’s doing a very sad Stevie Nicks impersonation.

I almost wince.

Yeah...it’s that bad.

If I had to guess, I’d say that she isn’t feeling the slightest bit of pain. I’m sure the liquid refreshment currently on tap is to be thanked for that. I’m hoping tomorrow will be a completely different story. She deserves the hangover-to-end-all-hangovers for dragging me to this god-awful excuse to drink beer, get rowdy, and troll for a hookup or two.

My plan for the remainder of this evening consists of staying inconspicuously tucked away in the back corner and sipping my tepid diet soda, because being a girl and walking around a drunken fraternity party is apparently an unofficial invitation to have your ass groped by a random dude.  Or should I say random dudes, because this has now happened twice. And a third time will likely push me over the edge of my douchebag tolerance limit for the evening.

The objective tonight is to keep an eye on Brooklyn, and when the clock strikes twelve, drag her ass out of here. And I’m totally okay if it’s kicking and screaming. Impatiently, I glance at my phone for the twentieth time in the last two hours.

It’s only eleven.

This has officially become painful.

I’m snapped out of my dark thoughts on how I’ll torture Brooklyn when a stray hand slides its way across my jean-covered butt.

Seriously?

Even though I try to control it, my heartbeat hitches before I spin around with tightened fists, ready to knock some unsuspecting jerk senseless.

Excuse me, I snarl through clenched teeth, get your damn hand off my ass before I break every single bone in your fingers! Contrary to what you might think, it’s not an idle threat.

I’ll do it.

As I turn, my gaze slams into probably the widest, burliest chest I’ve ever had the misfortune to inspect this up close and personal.

A sigh of disgust leaves my lips before I can rein it back in.

Perfect.

Slowly, I crane my neck upward until I’m finally able to glare into his eyes. The freakishly large oaf now standing in front of me has the audacity to smile lazily, his gaze happily blurred. Hey sexy, want to dance?

The guy barely looks able to stand upright let alone move his gargantuan body on the dance floor. If he goes down, it’ll be like a massive tree falling. And I don’t even want to think about the huge mark he’ll leave on his potential dance victim.

My brows draw together in aggravation before I shake my head. No, I don’t want to dance. What I’d like is for you to remove your hand from my ass.

Because—believe it or not—it’s still there.

His grin widens before he squeezes my butt cheek in that massive paw of his.  My eyes widen with shock as steam pours out of my ears.

Oh, hell no—that did not just happen.

Wiping the disgust from my face, I give him my best come-hither smile. Just because I never use these kinds of tactics doesn’t mean I don’t know how. His already dilated eyes widen like he just hit the jackpot. Stepping a bit closer to the knuckle-dragging Neanderthal, I crook my finger all sexy-like until he bends down. When our lips are close enough to touch, I drag my mouth to his ear. Before I can utter a word, I clamp my fingers around his balls—which are, in case you’re wondering, oversized just like the rest of him—in a death grip. Just for good measure, I give them a little twist.

He hisses out a breath in response.

Now that I have his undivided attention, I growl, If you don’t get your damn hand off my ass immediately, I will continue squeezing until something pops. Do I make myself clear?

Perfectly, he squeaks, sounding almost faint.

Not a second later, he releases my offended butt cheek.

And I, in return, release his nuts. But not before I tighten my grip one last time to drive home the gravity of the predicament this moron now finds himself in. For about ten seconds we glare at each other before he carefully backs away from me and my nut-clenching fingers. As he does, his face gets all sad and mopey like I’ve done something wrong, which is seriously laughable.

Frankly, I’m still pissed as hell.

You’re not a very nice girl, he mutters like a cross child before taking a huge gulp, of what I assume to be beer, from a red plastic cup.

Unattractively, I snort in response Nope. But hopefully you’ve learned a valuable lesson regarding the pitfalls of grabbing some unsuspecting girl’s ass. Although, gauging from his unapologetic stance towards me, my guess is that he has not taken this lesson to heart. On second thought... "Just refrain from grabbing any girl’s ass. Contrary to what you apparently think—we don’t like it. At all."

Some girls do, he pipes up, still sporting an intense frowny face, which is probably supposed to make me feel bad.

It doesn’t.

Eyes narrowing, I shake my head. No, we don’t. It’s degrading and just plain rude.

He smirks before sneering. No one’s ever complained before.

Not only do I find that comment completely dubious, but I can almost feel my blood pressure skyrocketing. Yup, Brooklyn is definitely a dead woman because this party has moved beyond painful to full-out tortuous.

What’s your name?

Alex Mc—

I hold up my hand and cut him off. That’s enough. For a moment, my gaze flies around the vicinity we’re standing in. Luckily, as packed as this massive party is, it doesn’t take long to find what I’m looking for.

Excuse me, I shout over the pulsating music at a pretty girl walking past us. With a smile gracing her lips, she turns. The high wattage smile dims once she realizes she doesn’t know who either one of us are.

Before she can make a hasty get away, I launch into my spiel. Hi, what’s your name?

Her gaze, which is slightly blurry as well (jeez...are there seriously no sober people at this party?) bounces between me and Alex. I can tell she’s hesitant to give me any information.

Stacy.

I give her my most reassuring smile. Hi, Stacy, I’m Cassidy and this is,, I point to the obnoxious buffoon standing next to me, Alex. We’re having a little disagreement that needs to be settled. Would you mind weighing in on the matter?

Since Stacy still looks uncertain, I barrel on. My friend here thinks it’s perfectly acceptable to walk around a party grabbing the butts of girls he doesn’t know. And furthermore, he’s under the impression that we enjoy it. I’m wondering if you might have any thoughts on the matter.

Stacy no longer looks hesitant or uncertain as her heated gaze swings back to Alex. Then, in a big sweeping gesture, she jerks her hands out in front of her. "What makes you think any girl would enjoy being touched by some random dude she doesn’t even know?"

Alex opens his mouth as if he might actually have a rebuttal in mind, but Stacy has other ideas. Like screeching at him in a very high, potentially eardrum shattering voice.

Where do you get off thinking you can grope a girl simply because you’re drunk at a party? Is there something seriously wrong with you? Do you have any concept that we’re living in the twenty-first century?

Alex snaps his mouth shut, and even though it’s difficult, I do my best to suppress the smile that is desperately trying to spread across my face as she continues to berate him.

That’s called sexual harassment, buddy. Her hands fly to her hips as she continues to glare. Do you know that I could call the police and have you ticketed? Or even arrested!

Okay, I’m not sure if that’s true but I’m going to roll with it.

As if finally realizing this teeny-tiny chick is about to go batshit crazy all over his dumb ass, Alex’s wide brown eyes shift helplessly to mine as Stacy pokes a slender finger at his massive wall-like chest.

He looks like he might want me to intervene on his behalf. I almost laugh because that is so not going to happen. I’m viewing this whole thing as a teachable moment. I only hope Alex is teachable. Although, in all honesty, the jury is still out on that one.

From what I’ve seen tonight, my guess is probably not.

How would you like it if a chick you didn’t know started groping you at a club or a party? Hostility flashes in her blue eyes. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if she started foaming at the mouth. My guess is that Stacy has been manhandled one too many times before.

Hopefully Alex isn’t stupid enough to answer that question.

I’d be totally down with it. For the first time in five minutes, he actually smirks.

Stacy’s mouth drops open as her eyes widen in disbelief. A moment later, her hand shoots out. I’m half afraid she’s going to bitch-slap Alex into next week when she grabs a girl walking past us and yanks her over. The girl, wearing a pair of four-inch heels, stumbles before recovering her balance. My hat off to her for remaining upright. It’s not always easy to do in sky-high heels.

"Ally, this guy, she waves her hand in Alex’s direction as if that term is debatable, thinks it’s perfectly acceptable to grab a girl’s butt at a party."

If the frown is any indication, Ally is none-too-pleased by this information either. One hand settles on her hip as her lip curls in disgust. Why do guys always think that’s okay to do? Even though this is posed as a question, it’s more rhetorical in nature. I am so damn sick and tired of that shit!

Silently, I shake my head before shrugging. Alex’s gaze darts with more unease between the two fuming girls who are all up in his face.

Ahhh—

He never gets a chance to finish that thought (I’m being overly generous with that assertion) before both Stacy and Ally steamroll over him. "It is definitely not okay! You can’t just walk around touching women inappropriately!"

Ahhh— Alex’s mouth gapes like a fish out of water. You can actually glimpse the moment he grasps the severity of his predicament.

What’s going on over here?

A tall brunette shoves her way into the tight circle before glancing around at the four of us.

Oh hey, Ashley. Can you believe this jerk thinks it’s okay to sexually harass a woman?

Now Ashley’s brows are lowering as her gaze arrows straight to Alex. No one in this day and age could possibly think that it’s okay to touch a woman without asking first.

She waits for Alex to clear his good name. Unfortunately, Alex continues to stare at her. He looks perplexed and a little surprised that he’s the object of three hot girls’ interest.

Of course, that interest isn’t the kind he’s been trolling for this evening.

Alex takes a hasty step backward as all three girls crowd into his personal space. Every single one of them talking or shouting at the same time. Since Alex will be tied up for the foreseeable future, I decide my work is done here and take off in search of Brooklyn. I’m more than ready to go home before any more of these drunken louts decide that party time ass grabbing is a legitimate sport.

I’m no more than ten steps away from Alex and his irate entourage, who are currently, by the volume of their collective voices, giving him a major ass-chewing, when a male voice says near my ear, I saw what you did back there.

Since I’ve filled my quota for inane conversations this evening, I ignore him and keep pushing my way through the thick press of bodies. I’m tired, a little bit cranky, and more than ready to take off. If I have to drag Brooklyn out of here, I’m more than willing to do it. And I certainly don’t have the wherewithal—not to mention the patience—to deal with any more hammered, frat boy-asshole-types tonight. Alex squandered the very last of it.

Without bothering to turn, I throw the words over my shoulder and continue to weave my way around clumps of drunken college coeds. I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Sure, you do.

I can practically hear the laughter simmering in his rich, deep voice. Realizing this guy isn’t going to leave me alone, I decide the best course of action is to stop and politely let him know that I’m not interested in anything he might be offering up this evening. Exasperated at getting held up when all I want to do is find Brooklyn and leave this out-of-control party, I wheel around toward the voice at my ear. As my eyes land on his face, I suck in a big breath of air before almost choking on it.

Chapter Two

Cassidy

––––––––

I don’t know what’s going on with me, but I can’t stop staring. And when I say staring, I mean full-on checking him out. It’s embarrassing. Although honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as beautiful as the guy standing before me.

Okay, so maybe beautiful is the wrong word. I don’t think guys really like being referred to as beautiful, but there isn’t another word to adequately describe him.

He’s completely beautiful.

It’s tempting to stand here and stare at him for the rest of the night.

But I won’t because, in my limited experience, beautiful guys are—more often than not—egotistical douchebags. Even though I’m only nineteen, I’ve already had my fill of those.

So thanks, but no thanks.

That being said, my fingers almost itch to slide their way through all that messy chocolate-colored hair. And don’t even get me started on those golden-brown eyes of his. Yup, totally dreamy.

Er...if I were a dreamy sort of girl, that is.

Which, trust me, I’m not.

He’s almost as tall as Alex but not quite as broad in the shoulders. Athletic-looking with long, lean muscles that are showcased in jeans and a simple dark, T-shirt that hugs his chest and upper arms quite nicely.

And damn if that isn’t my very own personal kryptonite.

This guy is way too gorgeous for his own good.

Mine too.

It takes effort to shake myself out of the stupor that has fallen over me, because I’m definitely not in the market for a boyfriend or a random hookup or even a friends-with-benefits situation.

I want nothing to do with guys, period.

End of story.

Then he goes and smiles this smooth, slow grin that spills its way dangerously across his strikingly handsome face.

Aw, crap.

The kicker is a pair of perfectly placed dimples that wink at me.

No doubt about it—definitely kryptonite material.

It’s almost laughable the way my heart slams against my breast as I stare. I’m not the kind of girl who is susceptible to male eye candy. No matter how beautifully packaged it is.

So...whatever he wants, I’ll be passing on. Now, if there happens to be a tiny pang of regret sliding its way through me at the notion of walking away, I shut it down before I can make any more disastrous decisions in my life. Because, trust me, I’ve already made more than my fair share of them.

Nope, sorry. After the calamity that was last year, I’m only beginning to find my bearings. Self-preservation is now the name of the game. I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Unfortunately, he isn’t so easily deterred. I almost sigh. The good-looking ones never are. So, what did Alex do to deserve being chewed out by a pack of angry women?

Without bothering to answer, because that’s exactly how one gets sucked into these kinds of conversations, I swing away. The sudden need to escape surges its way through me. I push and shove with more impatience, searching for Brooklyn’s blonde head in the crowd.

Even though I’m desperate to leave, I refuse to abandon Brooklyn. We agreed early on to always use the buddy system when out at night which is partly how I got wrangled into this mess in the first place. If I’m not being forced to join her for a night of heavy drinking and possible hookups, I usually make sure she’s with someone who won’t flake out at two in the morning and leave her stranded at some off campus fraternity party.

Bad things happen to girls who think there is safety in a party of one.

I’m hoping if I ignore Mr. Beautiful long enough, he’ll give up and go away. That’s usually my go-to weapon of defense. And most of the time, it’s effective.

Hey, are you going to answer me?

Again, his voice is distractingly at my ear. I can practically feel his warm breath ghosting over my flesh. Little shivers of pleasure laced with fear skitter their way down my spine. I grit my teeth in response, attempting to ignore him.

Good-looking or not, this is just annoying. Although, most of my irritation is directed at myself for the reaction he’s able to pull so effortlessly from me. It’s taken the better part of nine months to emotionally deaden myself. Somehow this guy has shot all my hard work to hell with two adorable dimples and a pair of gorgeous whiskey-colored eyes. Not to mention the rest of the package.

Yeah, it’s best not to think about that right now.

Without a word of warning, I spin toward him again. I’m hoping the element of surprise will have him backing off. Except he’s much closer than anticipated. With the shitty luck I’m having this evening, I crash into his muscular chest.

Did I happen to mention how hard all that chiseled strength is beneath my fingertips?

Or that I might actually enjoy running my hands over what I imagine to be amazing pecs?

This isn’t good.

With lightning quick reflexes, he reaches out to steady me as my gaze clashes with his.

No. Usually, if ignoring doesn’t work, bitch-mode will get the job done rather nicely. That’s my second go-to line of defense. And since I’m not naturally a bitch (I’m really not), it’s not something I enjoy doing.

Once in a while, I’ll actually get called a lesbian for not being interested. Why is it that the most persistent guys are always the ones who take rejection the hardest? And they certainly like to go right for the jugular when it becomes clear—to them anyway—that they won’t be tapping anything of mine with anything of theirs.

Totally annoying.

Narrowing those gorgeous eyes of his, half his mouth lifts into a smile. My breath catches again. How can that be just as devastating as the full-blown smile he’s already treated me to?

I almost have to shake my head to clear it of the spell he’s weaving around me.

No? He tilts his head a bit to the side and continues to watch me. There’s just a hint of a smirk hovering around the edges of his lips.

No. Forcing myself to hold strong against all this gorgeousness crammed into one irresistible package, I repeat before elaborating, I wasn’t going to answer you.

Brows drawing together, he blinks as if I’m some sort of strange specimen smeared across a microscope slide. What’s your name?

I shake my head.

Nope. We are definitely not going to play this game. There is no way in hell I’m getting dragged into a quasi-friendship with this guy. I can already feel it would be a mistake of epic proportions.

If, and that’s a really big if, I have a type, this guy is it. Therefore, he must be avoided at all costs. That would be the smartest move to make and I’m all about being smart. I refuse to fuck up my life any more than I already have.

His brows, which are thick but not overly caterpillar-like, hike up his forehead in disbelief. "So, let me get this straight—you won’t tell me what Alex did to upset you and you won’t give me your name?" Laughter brims in his rich, deep voice as he shakes his head.

The slow scald of a blush burns its way across my cheeks. Nervously, I glance around the crammed, dimly lit room one last time, hoping Brooklyn will magically appear so I can grab her and bolt, but that apparently isn’t meant to be.

There hasn’t been a Brooklyn sighting in at least twenty minutes.

I’m not upset. But I’m definitely getting there. And it has absolutely nothing to do with the gigantic ass who groped me and everything to do with the gorgeous, tawny-eyed, dimpled Adonis who won’t leave me alone.

But you did sic those three girls on him, right? He nods his head to the left, and my gaze naturally slides in that direction. We’re both able to see the incredibly tall and brawny Alex along with the three girls who are still in the process of ripping him a new one. Focusing on that for a moment lightens my mood considerably, because you can just tell those girls have totally committed themselves to their mission. It’s doubtful Alex will be going anywhere for a while. And if he does manage to escape their clutches, they’ll probably follow him, picking up more girls along the way.

Technically speaking, I only pulled one girl into our conversation. That being said, I’m not going to lie, it’s kind of a proud moment for me. I really hope Alex has learned his ass grabbing lesson tonight.

He got what he deserved, I say.

I consider that entire incident a public service to all women who attend Western University.

You’re welcome.

Not to be thrown off course, he persists. So just tell me what he did to deserve it. He looks genuinely interested. But still...

I narrow my eyes because this little back and forth is exactly what I didn’t want to get sucked into.

Hmm...ignoring him didn’t work.

And bitchiness hasn’t deterred him either.

Maybe if I just give him the answers he’s after, he’ll get bored and wander off in search of easier prey.

Huffing out an aggravated breath, I mumble, He grabbed my ass.

Those golden eyes darken as the corners of his mouth sink into a deep frown. I’m sorry he did that to you. I think Alex is pretty wasted.

I scowl. Being drunk isn’t an excuse for sexually harassing me. What he did was wrong. I stab a finger in Alex’s direction. That dude got what he deserved. Actually, he’s lucky I didn’t knock his front teeth out.

Eyes flaring, he holds up both hands. I never claimed it was an acceptable justification for touching you. He looks upset that I think he’s making excuses for his meathead friend, but I don’t care. I want him gone. His very presence unnerves me, and I don’t like it.

Even though I know he means well, I carry on with my plan to drive him away. Actually, I cut in, "that’s exactly what you said."

His thick brows jerk together as he shakes his head. "But it’s not what I meant. I just wanted you to understand that he